


Nestled in Chains

by TheCasualKoala



Category: Fallout (Video Games)
Genre: AU, Charon is human, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Raven Rock is surrounded by water
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26076109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCasualKoala/pseuds/TheCasualKoala
Summary: At the very northwest corner of the Capital Wasteland, the Enclave quietly prepares. Autumn sends his best soldier, Staff Sergeant Chance O'Leary, to conquer and enslave the inhabitants of Vault 101. One of the residents is of particular interest to Autumn...
Relationships: Charon (Fallout)/Female Lone Wanderer
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! I know I've been gone for a bit but I'm back and excited to write! This story is an alternate universe that deviates from Fallout 3. Charon is still human and is an Enclave Soldier. Taylor Clarke is/isn't the Lone Wanderer. I'm hoping that this sort of starts to make sense as the story goes on. This is my first AU story so I hope you all like it!

Staff Sergeant Chance O’Leary stood on the cliffs of the Raven Rock complex, a cool, misty ocean breeze caressing his face as he took a long drag off his cigarette. It was a gray day out on the water, much the same as it ever was. The weather hardly changed this far north, always stormy, rain threatening every ruck march and recon mission. 

Someday, I’ll get off this fucking rock,” Chance muttered into the damp air. He hadn’t had much of a choice. He was born into it after all. That’s what the Enclave did. Conquering and enslaving, getting its resources from those who didn’t resist. As a boy, they must have recognized his potential early on. He was taken from his parents then. He rose through the ranks quickly, commanding his own squad at just 18 years old. After ten years of doing something over and over though, one seems to get tired of it. Sick even.

“Yo, Chance,” called a voice behind him. His squadmate, George Ramsey. “Colonel wants to speak with you.”

Chance flicked away the remains of his cigarette, clapping Ramsey on the shoulder as he passed.

“Thanks,” Chance replied. “I’m headed up.”

Inside the base, it was dark except for the rows of blue and orange lights illuminating the halls. Raven Rock was sprawling, absolutely massive in size. For as long as he had been there, Chance hadn’t even been to all the floors, even though he had the clearance. He passed by squads practicing in the indoor range, soldiers headed to the mess hall, in and out of their barracks to Colonel Autumn’s office. Chance didn’t much like Autumn to begin with but the Colonel seemed to like him and as long as he was getting three hots and a cot, he didn’t really give a shit what Autumn thought. Ascending up the long stairwell to Autumn’s office, Chance rapped on the door twice.

“Staff Sergeant!” Autumn exclaimed in his lilting Southern accent. “Just the man I wanted to see. Come on in then. Close the door behind you.” 

“Yes, sir.” Chance entered, shutting the door behind him. 

Autumn was furiously writing on some document that Chance couldn’t quite see from his angle in the room. Chance patiently waiting for him to be finished, peering at Autumn through a solemn, quiet gaze. The man was always so put together. Clean shaven, blonde hair gelled, uniform neatly pressed. A man of order. Disturbingly so.

“I have a special tasking for you, my boy,” Autumn smiled, leaning back in his seat, twisting a pen between his gloved fingertips.

“Me, sir?” Chance asked. He wondered what had Autumn so pleased.

“Yes, you, Staff Sergeant,” chuckled Autumn as he rose from his seat, pacing over to his large hologram map. “Are you familiar with the Vaults?”

Chance vaguely recalled ads for the Vaults when he took classes on War Propaganda. 

“You mean the ones that promised the old world suckers a place to crash when the bombs went down, sir?”

“I mean exactly those,” Autumn said as he pointed to a spot at the middle of the map. “Here. Vault 101. There’s something of interest to us there. Or someone, rather. Doctor James Clarke. He’s on the verge of something. We need it worse than him though.”

“Yes, sir,” Chance nodded.

“Go to Vault 101,” Autumn continued. “Bring back Doctor Clarke. If he won’t go willingly, we’ll have to show the residents all the hospitality the Enclave has to offer. Do I make myself clear.”

“Yes, sir,” Chance affirmed.

“Gather your squad,” Autumn turned to face him. “They may not want to go so easy.”


	2. Chapter 2

Chance and his squad moved out for Vault 101 once night fell. It would be easier to ambush the vault that way. Since it was such a big operation, soldiers from other squads had been reassigned to his. They would take the vault using stealth. Find Doctor Clarke and bring him back to Raven Rock. 

The squad arrived at the vault’s solid gate. Chance stuck a brick of plasma C-4 to the gate. 

“Remember,” he whispered to his men. “Disarm them as quietly as you can. I’ll make my way down to Medical. That’s where he has to be.”

The device beeped once and blew a sizzling, gaping hole through the gate. Minding the chunks of molten metal dripping from their entry hole, Chance squeezed through, his men immediately going to work. The vault residents gasped and yelped, some dropping the things they were carrying like room keys and baskets of laundry. None of them offered any resistance so he was sure they’d definitely been taken by surprise.

Chance made his way down the stairwells toward the medical wing of the vault. He was crossing by an intersection of hallways when a figure lurched out, armed with a small blade.

Chance grabbed the figure’s hand and twisted, earning an angry, pained shout. A teenage boy, not more than nineteen, stumbled back, clutching his wrist as Chance trained his .45 Magnum on him.

“Get down,” Chance growled. “Down on your face. Now.”

The boy looked at him, dumbfounded.

“I said on your fucking face!”

“Alright, Jesus, just don’t shoot,” the boy slowly laid himself down on the floor.

Just then, Chance heard rapid steps coming from outside the hall. Standing above the boy, he pointed his pistol at the intruder. 

“Butch!” cried the voice of the intruder.

“Stop,” Chance warned.

A girl, about the same age as the boy, came into view, immediately freezing at the sight of the gun. A wave of something washed over Chance: nausea, heat? She was dressed as all the other residents were, in a blue utility jump suit. However, her face did not match the mundaneness of the suit she wore. She was exquisitely beautiful: with bright, clear green eyes, silky chestnut brown hair, a dusting of freckles across her straight nose. Her tan skin was so youthful, glowing almost, unusual for someone who lived underground. Her soft, un-chapped lips were parted in a surprise over her straight white teeth. She looked like something out of a fairy tale. Any world but this one.

“On your knees,” Chance ordered, straightening his stance and gripping his weapon with slick palms. 

The girl immediately complied.

“Okay,” she said slowly as she knelt. “Just, please, don’t hurt Butch. Don’t hurt us.”

“Staff Sergeant,” one of his soldiers entered. “There’s no sign of the Doctor. We’ve checked everywhere.”

Chance scowled, looking away in frustration. Now what? Autumn would be ripshit. 

“He… he’s not here,” the girl’s voice was no more than a whisper as she said it to the slate gray floor.

Chance stalked over to her, looming above her.

“Where did he go?” 

“I-I don’t know…” the girl squeaked.

Chance took her by the wrists, wrenching her up to look at him.

“You don’t know or you don’t remember?” he menaced, inches from her face.

“I don’t know, I swear!” she begged, her jade eyes filling with tears. His strong hands squeezed her wrists painfully. “He-he he left a few months back. He didn’t say where. Please don’t hurt anyone. We’re peaceful, we’ll do what you want.”

A moment of clarity crossed her features.

“Take me instead,” she implored. “He’s trained me since I was little. I can do it for him. I’ll do my best. Please.”

“And why should I trust you?” Chance challenged, still grasping her wrists tightly.

“Because I’m his daughter.”

She froze as he searched her face for any hint of a lie. Then, the corner of his mouth rose.

“Fine, you’ve got yourself a deal.”


	3. Chapter 3

His squad left with his new prisoner in tow, a soldier grasping each of her arms. She stumbled a bit as she walked. She didn’t look up, even as the other vault dwellers began whispering and murmuring, everyone to afraid to move. 

“WAIT!!” came a voice behind them as they crossed the main lobby of the vault. “TAYLOR!!”

The girl’s head jerked up at that and Chance craned his neck to look back at the distraction. He tipped his head at Ramsey.

“Turn back, boy,” Ramsey warned as he approached. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“I’LL FIND YOU, TAYLOR!” the boy screamed as he reached out to her. “I SWEAR!!”

Chance’s shoulders shrugged in a sort of humorless chuckle involuntarily. With Autumn being so adamant about the doctor, he doubted this girl would ever see this place again. He glanced over at her.

Tears left long tracks down her face and her tiny frame racked as she turned away from the boy. She knew it too then. She wouldn’t be coming back here. Chance felt the smallest pang of sorrow for her as his soldiers hurried her roughly along. 

They got to the entrance of the vault, pushing her through, while those at the flank sealed the doors. It was still dark out with no end in sight.  
***

They stopped to make camp for a bit, some resting, others tearing into MRE’s to keep up their energy. Chance approached the girl, a bundle of fabric in his hand. 

“Here,” he said, tossing the garment to her. 

She unraveled it, feeling the soft, silky material. It felt more like a slip than a dress. It was a blush pink color, a bit torn in the front but longer in the back at least. She looked up at her captor, confused.

“Put it on,” Chance told her. “Can’t risk anyone seeing a vault dweller out here.”

She nodded but hesitated, looking at the men through the firelight as they talked amongst themselves, ate, or rested. Chance followed her gaze and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Alright,” he sighed. “Come on then.”

She rose to her feet and followed him over to where a large rock jagged up from the ground. He gestured for her to change behind it and she complied. He turned his back, giving her privacy, leaning against the rock. He looked up at the sky. It was beginning to tint orange at the horizon. Dawn was coming and they needed to pick up the pace. The less time out in daylight, the better. 

“Um… c-can I please get help?” she asked from behind the rock.

He leaned around the rock to see what the trouble was. One of her arms was caught in the strap as she pressed the dress to her body to keep it from coming off her. 

“I just… can’t see very well,” she added quietly.

He wordlessly began to unravel the strap from her arm, noting silently how soft her skin was. He got her untangled and he gently pushed the strap up her shoulder. They locked eyes as his fingers deftly turned the strap the right way. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. She could barely see the outline of him in the darkness but she could feel how rough his hands were.

There was no sound in the warm night air except for their breath. He hoped his breathing was slower than hers.

When they emerged from behind the rock, the soldiers now gawked at the girl, her new attire capturing their attention. A few whistled and hollered. The girl wrapped her arms around herself, shifting uncomfortably.

“Knock it off,” Chance barked. “Get ready to go, we’re out of here.”

As his men prepared to leave, packing up their food and dousing their fires, Chance looked northwest towards Raven Rock. Wouldn’t take more than a couple hours to get there. He turned to the girl.

“Hey, you rea-”

He stopped short, noticing the way she turned to where the sun began to blaze across the Wasteland horizon. All at once, shapes and colors began to assault her eyes but the worst was the blinding white light of that most precious star. Her eyes welled as she looked on, half in amazement and half in horror.

“Hey,” her captor stood in front of her, blotting out the sun. His hands hovered at her shoulders. “You’ll go blind if you look too long.”

She took the opportunity to get her closest look yet at him. He was tall, broad in his back, chest, and shoulders, narrowing into his waist. She could tell he labored for a living as his body was lean with muscle chiseled throughout him. A strong physical power lay low under that stoic, unflinching attitude. His face was quite handsome, she thought, as she slowly looked up through her lashes at his face. A prominent jawline framed his face, complimented by a straight nose, and his stormy, blue eyes were sunken in, rimmed with dark circles. His hair was the color of rust that coated the pipes in the vault. He was stunning, she thought albeit shamefully. Even more so than Butch, if she ever thought that possible.

“What?” he asked, cocking his eyebrow up.

“Nothing, I just-”

“STAFF SERGEANT, LOOK OUT!!” Ramsey’s voice cut through the air. Chance had enough time to throw the girl out of the way before a large, scaly mass overtook him, barreling him to the ground. 

The deathclaw wrapped its hand around him, lifting him off the ground. It punctured one of its claws through his side and he howled in pain. Weakly, he lifted his Magnum and pulled the trigger, catching the creature in the eye. The deathclaw hurled Chance, the claw slicing through him as he tumbled a few feet away. 

“BRING IT DOWN!!” he heard Ramsey shout. Gunfire, shouting, and the roars of the deathclaw rang in his ears as he brought his hand from the wound to his face, coated in blood. The girl crossed into his vision and he squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as she pressed down on the wound with both hands, staunching the flow of blood.  
He tried to open his eyes again but he was slipping fast, his eyes rolling back to that unknown place. A strand of her hair fell onto his face as she worked and he decided that maybe he didn’t quite mind that as everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4

Chance jolted awake, his body slicked in sweat. The sheets peeled away from him as he half-fell onto the grated floor of Raven Rock's medical division. Remembering, he clutched his side, right where the deathclaw had pierced him. It still hurt like a son of a bitch, but there only remained closed pink wound, smaller scars extending from it like bolts of lightning.

The girl, he suddenly thought. He remembered her hair brushing over his face, the smell of mild soap on her skin as she leaned over him and held pressure on the stab. Chance ripped his arms free of the many tubes in his arms as medical equipment beeped incessantly. Tugging on his cargo pants, he tore out of the medical wing, running blindly through the twisting, steaming corridors of Raven Rock. He could faintly hear the concerned protests of the men in his unit but he sprinted all the way to Autumn's office. As he pounded up the stairs leading to the office, he saw her through the bay window, hiding behind her long curtain of hair with her hands folded in front of her as Autumn spoke to her.

He burst through the door, chest heaving and sweat dripping down the back of his neck, over his clavicle, and down his chest. At the sudden intrusion, the girl had whipped her head towards him, her hair covering one of her green eyes, lips parted in shock. Chance stared back at her, not for one second taking his eyes off her. Autumn didn't look the least bit surprised, perhaps more amused as he leaned his chin upon knuckles, smiling.

"Ah, good, you're awake," Autumn smirked. "I was beginning to wonder if we were going to need to replace you."

Chance's eyes flickered briefly over to him but returned quickly to the girl.

Autumn chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm joking, Staff Sergeant. Where's your sense of humor?"

The colonel shifted his glance back over at their new captive.

"While you were dozing off, I had the wonderful pleasure of meeting our new guest here.

Autumn gestured to Chance with a gloved hand.

"Ms. Clarke, meet my best soldier. Staff Sergeant Chance O'Leary."

Her shoulders shrunk up as she peeked over at him.

"Staff Sergeant, meet-"

"I know what her name is," Chance stated, unblinking. The girl's eye's widened. Autumn's head cocked slightly as he lowered his eyes back down to his paperwork.

"Ah, no need to spoil our precious time with anymore introductions, then."

Autumn turned to the girl.

"Well, Ms. Clarke we look forward to working with you, seeing as your father was unable to make it."

"Yes," the girl shifted as her voice did. "But if I'm going to continue my father's work, then I need the proper equipment."

Autumn nodded, pondering as he tapped his fountain pen against the papers on his desk. 

"Staff Sergeant, I assume this won't be a problem for you?"

"No, sir," Chance bit out.

"Fantastic, then take the girl and procure what she needs. Don't return until you have everything she needs to begin her work."

Chance gave one solitary nod and waited for the girl to exit the office. She turned her eyes to him as she gently brushed past him. 

"Staff Sergeant," the colonel stopped him before he could get through the doorframe. Chance turned to his commander.

"I know you won't disappoint me."

Chance said nothing but cast his gaze down as he closed the door behind him.  
***  
Chance could feel how close she followed as he lead her to the base's kitchen. He figured she must have been as hungry as he was. Maybe even hungrier. He twisted his head a bit to look at her through his peripherals. 

"I appreciate what you did back there."

He could tell she was confused. She didn't respond but stopped and tilted her head slightly at him. He turned to her fully.

"You saved me... that would've been a fatal wound, no doubt. None of the guys here are half as smart to be able to patch such a clusterfuck up."

"Oh, I um-" she stammered. "I would've- I-... you're welcome."

Chance exhaled a chuckle, shaking his head as he kept walking. She followed again and they made it to the kitchen. It was empty, barely lit, the LED clock that hung on one of the walls read 3:29 AM.

He began to take out ingredients to make their meal. She shifted from foot to foot. 

"You can sit down," he told her, pointing to an empty foldable chair. She nodded hastily, sitting down. He stole looks at her as he simmered Brahmin steaks in a pan. She sat prim and proper, one leg tucked neatly under the other with her hands folded in her lap. She looked in his direction and he ripped his eyes away. 

"How do you know my name?" she asked quietly.

He was quiet for a few moments.

"That kid," he said and she instantly knew who he meant. "He wouldn't stop calling for you."

"Yeah," her voice was pinched, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction, slamming an angry look onto her brow.

He didn't press the topic further, throwing himself into the cooking, sautéing root vegetables and sprinkling rock salt onto the Brahmin steaks. He plated the food and brought hers to her.

"Thank you," she told him as he handed her the food and some cutlery.

He tipped his head at her and took a couple steps back before settling on the floor with his own plate, wincing as he did do. He was a couple bites in when he noticed she had moved to floor as well.

"You can eat in the chair you know," he stated.

"I just didn't want to be lonely," she told him. "In my vault, we used to all eat together..."

He said nothing but shrugged his shoulders, continuing to eat. They ate in peace for a while. When they were finished, he stood up and she followed suit. He took her plate, dumping them into the sink full of soapy water. 

"Thank you," she said sincerely. "It was delicious."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

They stood staring at one another as the seconds went by silently on the LED clock. 

"Come on, I'll take you to your room," he told her. He began walking to the barracks with her trailing so close behind again. He led her to an empty room furnished with a small bed, a desk, chair, and a small bathroom. He led her in, getting ready to step back out.

"Wait!" she sensed his impending leave. "Please don't leave me here alone. I can't... I can't bear it."

He paused for but a moment until leading her over to the bed. He pulled back the sheets for her to get in, waiting for her to settle before pulling the sheets over her body. He scraped the chair over to where the bed was and slumped down onto it, sighing heavily. Strangely enough, with his eyes on her, sleep took her quickly. She blinked her eyes slowly shut, savoring his handsomeness one last time before she slept.


	5. Chapter 5

As soon as he saw her relax into sleep, Chance quietly stood. He gently pulled the sheet around her and silently backed away from the bed. He took one last look at her before leaving the room. The automatic lock hissed behind him and he strode to his own room. Chance tried to lie down but his scar was sore and aggravated. He got up, pacing before resolving to go outside for a smoke. It was still pitch dark outside, the water surrounding the base barely visible. 

Inhaling the comforting heat, Chance tried not to think at all, but his thoughts kept wandering back to her. All at once, he wanted to be as far from her and as close to her as possible. Her quiet voice was like the sweetest song to his ears, her skin so unbelievably smooth, her hair the finest silk. The face of an angel who had fallen from the sky and had somehow ended up in a vault. He wondered what she looked like when she smiled. When she laughed. When she was happy. For as long as she was with him, she never would be. 

*** 

Taylor started awake at the sound of some type of cadence blasting through the speakers that were situated outside her room. She looked forlornly to the empty chair beside her bed. He had probably left sometime in the middle of the night. She tugged the sheet up over herself, sitting up in bed as she sensed movement from outside. One of the solders entered her room. 

"Come on, you're up," he told her. "We've got to get you to Staff Sergeant." 

She nodded, hastily making her bed back up. She was about to put a boot of her foot when the soldier stopped her. 

"You're gonna be out for a while," he stated. "If I were you, I'd shower and freshen up." 

She stood there in silence, staring. 

"Jesus Christ, come on, I know you're from a vault but were you born yesterday," he asked, exasperated. "I said go get cleaned up." 

His harsh words stung her. She nodded quickly and fought back tears as she went over to the shower. To his credit, the soldier did turn around, giving her the tiniest bit of privacy. Everyone here was so coarse and unattached. Not at all like home. She hated it. She undressed, stepped into the shower, scrubbing her head really good. She washed her entire body, not knowing when she would get the opportunity to do so again. Maybe it would be her last. She shook away the grim thought. She had a strong feeling the Staff Sergeant wouldn't let that happen so easily though. Hopefully, saving his life meant that he would allow her to live. 

Taylor dressed quickly and stepped back into view of the soldier, clearing her throat to signal that she was done. 

The soldier motioned for her to follow, so she did. She looked back to make sure she wasn't forgetting anything but, truth be told, all she had were the clothes on her back and the boots on her feet. 

They followed the labyrinth-like corridors until they came upon a large room, furnished almost identically to hers. 

"Wait here," the soldier ordered but Taylor couldn't help but lean around the soldier's turned back to peer into the room. The whishing of running water hit her ears first before her eyes took in what was happening. 

She could see the vague outline of the Staff Sergeant's lean yet sculpted body through the shower wall as he ran his hands through his rust- colored hair, washing it out. 

Unwittingly, she leaned forward as she stared, cheeks burning. 

"Got your company here," the soldier called. 

His head turned slowly in the direction of the soldier's voice as he looked out at them from around the shower. Although she could only see his head, neck, and part of his shoulder, she could feel heat pool in her lower stomach. He was dripping wet and, God, was he ever handsome. He locked eyes with her.

Taylor could feel her face redden all the way as she turned her face away, looking down at her own feet. 

"Alright," he replied. "Let me get decent and I'll be right out. 

They waited until he came into view, dressed in a black T-shirt, cargo pants, and steel-toed boots. His hair was a deep russet color from being wet. 

The Staff Sergeant slung his pack across his back and tossed a pack to her. She fumbled clumsily, accidentally dropping it. 

"For the road," he told her, staring her down as she knelt to pick up the pack. "Best travel light. We're in for a long trip, princess."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: graphic violence

"Please stand back," an automated female voice chirped. "Bay doors are opening." 

An alarm honked as yellow lights circled and the doors to the base opened. The sunlight assaulted Taylor's eyes once again. 

"Give it a minute," her captor's voice came from next to her. "You'll get used to it." 

It took a few minutes but once she was able to see, she stepped tentatively into the outside world. The alarms blared again and the bay doors squealed shut. 

The warm wind rustled slightly, blowing swirls of dust about. Jagged rocks jutted up from the surface of the earth. What few trees that had grown in the area looked charred and brown. 

They began walking through the barren landscape as the sun blazed. All too quickly, Taylor became hot and tired, the modest pack she was given turning into a burdening weight on her back. She could tell the Staff Sergeant had slowed down for her. He watched her warily as if she were about to faint at any moment. 

"I'm not about to blow away, if that's what you're concerned about, Staff Sergeant." 

He looked a bit perturbed as if she said exactly what he was thinking. 

"You don't have to be so formal out here," he changed the subject. "You can call me by my name." 

For such a coarse, abrasive person, there was a sensitive side deep under what was on the surface. 

"Then I expect you to call me by mine, Chance." 

He didn't realize how much he loved the sound of his name coming from her voice. 

"Very well, Taylor," he added quietly. 

They walked a bit until they came upon an empty caravan. Most of it had been picked over but Chance knew they most unique places to look. 

"Here," he waved her over, unzipping his pack and shoving a couple cartons of purified water along with some packaged goods. "This will help us along." 

Once they had loaded up, they continued on. The wind whipped tiny grains of sand up at Taylor, irritating her skin. More than ever, she missed the comfort and safety of her vault. It was just past breakfast, her classes would be in session on a normal day. She'd probably be stealing glances at Butch. Instead, her eyes slid to the man who walked beside her. Hardly bothered by the flecks of sand that whizzed on past him, his footfalls were confident and assured. His hand suddenly shot up and she immediately stopped with him. 

In the middle of the road sat a girl about her age. She was crying, with her face buried in her hands. Chance went to move in first when Taylor stopped him. 

"Wait," she begged. "She just needs help. Please." 

Chance's heart softened a tad at the way she pleaded and he let her approach the girl, trailing quietly behind her. 

"It's okay, here drink some water," Taylor consoled the girl. "It'll help you feel better." 

As the girl lifted her face, Chance saw no tears trailing down her face. He reached for his gun just as the girl's eyes changed. He knew the look all too well. Desparation. 

He thrusted his pistol forward as the girl lunged for Taylor and shot her point blank in the head. The girl's eyes went from ferocious to bulging, trying to suck in air like a fish out of water. Blood splashed across Taylor's face, sticky and still warm. The girl fell back with a thud in the dust. 

It was silent for a beat. Then it all came crashing down to Taylor as she screamed, catapulting backward, falling down and scrambling away from the now dead girl. 

Chance went to grab her and she socked him in the rib. They struggled and he pulled her arms into her small body, lifting her from the ground as she kicked and flailed. 

"Are you done?!" He hadn't meant for it to come out so harsh. 

Chance held her tight from around her waist so she couldn't wriggle away as tremors racked her body. 

"Let me go..." she barely whispered. "You're a monster." 

"I'm what," he asked dangerously, flipping her around with ease. He held her wrists as he put her on the ground to face him.  
She didn't repeat it. 

"You really don't get it, do you?" he asked her. "I saved your life." 

"You just shot an innocent person!" she hissed. 

"Innocent," he chuckled darkly. "Go look at what's in her hand." 

He unhanded her roughly and she walked tentatively over the the body. The blood muddied on the sand. Sure enough, a rusty knife was clutched in her hand. 

"I-I was only trying to help her," Taylor stammered, bewildered. 

"People out here aren't like in your vault," he told her, close to her face, making sure she digested every word. "Your vault was a fairy tale. All that's out here now is you and them. If you so blindly offer so much as a bit of kindness out here, your life is forfeit. Count on that. It's the rules of conquest. Fight or be destroyed."

"Shut up!" she countered and she saw his eyes go wide in anger. "You tell me lies! Poison!" 

"Fine," he snapped, jerking her onto her feet. "You believe in your fairy tales. That vault has emptied your head good and hollow." 

He brushed past to trudge on ahead of her as fresh tears filled her eyes and spilled over. 

***


End file.
